


Guys' Night Out

by Miso



Category: SCTV (Canada TV)
Genre: BDSM, Drinking & Talking, M/M, Reunion Sex, ofc the longest thing ive written in forever is sctv smut, porn with a framing device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 00:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso
Summary: Sammy and Earl share stories about their respective partners.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HOOOOOOO BOY. of course the longest non-multi-chapter thing i write in for-fuckin-ever is sctv porn. :P it probably SHOULD be multichapter but tbh??? i feel like it works.

The Melonville area didn't have much of an LGBT scene. There was the Tap Room and its ever-so-occasional "Gay Night" but as Floyd had pointed out, it was basically just whatever night they weren't showing sports on the TV. Earl had gone once. It was a bunch of 20-somethings ignoring anyone over 30, which left him, Floyd, and Mrs. Falbo (the one person Earl never would have put money on being gay) to drink and chat. Well, Floyd and Falbo drank. Earl, the eternal designated driver, was stuck with Coke and bitterly people watching.

Thank God, then, for Sammy Maudlin. Earl wasn't entirely sure he wasn't magic, or at least had an incredibly keen sense of where to find places to hang out. "There's this bar in Rosewood," he'd said, "Figured maybe you'd like to spend some time there instead of the Tap Room." Anything was better than the Tap Room, which smelled like stale beer and mold.

"This is... cute." Earl sipped his cocktail. He'd asked for something sweet that wouldn't give him alcohol poisoning, and the bartender had served him a Tequila Sunrise. After laughing at him. "Better than the Tap Room. Floyd would hate it." Floyd was the straightest gay guy Earl knew. Sammy laughed softly.

"I figured. I though it'd be nice for y'all to get some time away from him. Lord knows I need time away from Bobby." Sammy knocked back a slug of his drink. What it was, Earl wasn't sure, but he could smell brandy and mint from his seat. "Speakin' of, how're things with Tall, Dark, and Handsome?"

"Funny, I was gonna ask you how things were with Short, Neon, and Eyebrows." Earl couldn't help but laugh as Sammy's expression changed from genial friendliness to what he could only describe as 'seriously?' "You know I'm kidding. Bobby's cute. You're lucky." He paused. "He is short, though."

"Pff, don't let him hear you say that. He's so insecure about his height. It'd be funny if it weren't pathetic." Sammy fished an ice cube out of his drink and chewed it. "Y'didn't answer me, though."

"Things with Floyd are fine. What about you and Bobby?" Earl took another sip of his drink. Oof. He never understood why people liked tequila, but all the fruit juice almost covered it up. It was palatable if nothing else. Sammy smiled a little, almost coyly, and looked a mile away for a moment before responding.

"Bobby just got home from a USO tour. How d'you think things are?"

"Oooh. Do tell." Earl leaned against the bar and smirked. One thing he liked about hanging out with Sammy was that their shared lack of boundaries led to some pretty fun stories. Especially when they turned into gossipy hens talking about their respective partners. "... Wait, a USO tour?"

"The military don't care if the entertainment's gay. 'Sides, Bobby ain't even gay."

"But-"

"He's been married to girls before, Earl. He ain't gay." Sammy stirred his drink briefly, sipped it, then continued. "Anyway... y'wanna know how things have been?"

"Yes! You don't talk about Bobby much when it comes to... y'know."

"Well..."

***  
Sharp teeth dug into Sammy's neck, wrenching a soft squeak from him. Bobby was always a bit... different after a lengthy tour. Any normal tour, sure, he was horny when he got home, but those USO tours? They really must have fucked with him, because when they were over, he was like a starving lion and Sammy felt like a hapless zebra. "Bobby, Jesus, y'tryin' to rip my throat out?" he asked, pressing his fingers to the rapidly-blossoming bruise on his neck.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Bobby pressed a kiss to the spot he'd bitten. "God, I just... those USO tours fuck with me. Can't even call... send me to fuckin' Guam..." He kissed in a new spot. "Or Thailand..." Another one. "Or Panama... s'like I'm chopped liver."

Sammy trembled a little, feeling Bobby's erection prod insistently at his hip. "Mmm... you ain't chopped liver to me, sugar."

"Reassuring, sweetheart." Bobby smirked and unbuckled Sammy's belt gently, a palm traversing the exposed skin of his chest and stomach. "Y'know they try to hook me up with chicks on these tours all the time."

"Do they?" Sammy purred softly as a hand slid under the elastic of his underwear and ever-so-teasingly stroked his cock. "Nnnh... y'like girls too..."

"Mm, yeah, but why would I ever go back to them?" Bobby gently nudged down Sammy's pants and underwear. "Guys know what other guys like. Naturally." Sammy trembled, lifting his hips to aid him. "Don't have to guide 'em."

Bobby's voice was low and husky as he tossed his belt over his shoulder haphazardly. Probably startled one of the cats. He didn't mind. He was focused on something infinitely more important. "And women don't look at me the way you do."

"They don't?"

"Nah." Bobby finished undressing himself with a quick motion, enjoying the way Sammy bit his lip. He watched his gaze come to rest on his dick. "That. That's what I mean. The way you look at me like you need me more than air."

"I do," Sammy breathed, gripping Bobby's wrist. "But... I wanna try somethin' a lil' different."

"Oh?"

Sammy scooted up a bit and shifted them to where he was atop Bobby. "... Sweetheart, if you wanted to top, all you had to do was ask." With a soft chuckle, Sammy shook his head and kissed Bobby softly.

"Y'really are dumber than a post sometimes, ain't you, sugar?"

"What?"

"Hush, I'm teasin'." Sammy's eyes sparkled as he pressed a kiss to Bobby's collarbone. "You're so wound up... y'need to relax." He slowly worked his way down his fiance's body. "God, I'm so lucky... you're gorgeous... now try not to choke me, sugar."

Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a garbled "Ooohh, god" as Sammy's lips wrapped around his cock. Goddamn, he'd missed that feeling. His hand and imagination could only get him so far. "Ffffuck..."

Sammy let his tongue follow the trail of a prominent vein, delighting in the low hiss this elicited from Bobby. God, he was pent up, wasn't he? "Good?"

"Why'd you stop?" He sounded helpless, plaintive.

"I'm takin' that as a yes." Sammy purred quietly and lapped a bead of precum from the tip of Bobby's dick. Bobby whimpered and knotted his fingers into Sammy's hair desperately. "Mmm. Y'know, I was plannin' on lettin' you fuck me, but... I think you like this, don't you?"

He didn't let Bobby get any words out before he took him back into his mouth, swallowing him as deep as he could. Somewhere above him Bobby panted and groaned quietly, trembling encouragingly.

Sammy choked momentarily as Bobby came unannounced. He pulled off, managing to regain his composure in time to watch. Bobby trembled and whimpered softly, desperately, his cock twitching, ribbons of come painting his stomach. "Damn," Sammy whispered, wiping his chin, as Bobby melted into the mattress, panting. "Y'did like it, then?"

"Yessssss..."

"Good." Sammy smirked, giving Bobby's still-twitching length a quick kiss before crawling back to his position atop him. "You want more?"

"Please... god, I've been blue-balled for nearly a month, sweetheart, what do you think?"

"Where on earth are your manners, sugar?"

"I said please!" Bobby looked and sounded desperate. "Don't make me beg, you fucker, I know you've missed me as much as I missed you..."

"I did. You're right." Sammy grabbed the lube he'd set out on the nightstand earlier. "I missed you more than you know." He gently slicked Bobby's dick, still hard, still twitching. "You're still twitchin'."

"I'm _horny_ , Sam, quit fuckin' around!"

"God, you're impatient." Sammy set the lube aside and let himself sink down onto Bobby. "Fuuuuuck yes... mmm, god, I missed that."

Bobby's fingertips dug into his thighs and he let out a soft growl. God, the noises he made were so hot. Silly, sometimes, but hot. "Sammy..."

"Nnh, what?"

His fingers dug in again. "Move!"

"Y'ruined the moment, sugar," Sammy whispered, gently moving his hips anyway and feeling his own cock jerk like it had a mind of its own when Bobby snarled and bit his lip. "God. Y'miss me that bad...? You're actin' like a wild animal..."

"You know I did, baby... fuck, c'mon, faster!" Bobby's hips bucked up, rocking desperately against his fiance's. "Shit, Sammy, please..."

"I'm startin' to think you wanna be in charge."

"What tipped you off?" Bobby found the time to be a sarcastic little shit even during sex. Incredible. "God, either get going or get off me..."

"You asked." Sammy gasped quietly as he slipped off of Bobby's length. "What do you-" Cut off by a sudden flurry of movement, he found his face pressed into the pillows and Bobby behind him, gripping his hips tight. "... Oh."

"What's that about me being in charge now, sweetheart?" Sammy could just hear the smile in Bobby's voice. "... You're okay with this, right?"

Sammy nodded and gripped a pillow. "Please..." He gasped as Bobby pressed into him again, then buried his face in the pillow and let out a hoarse cry as he was barely given time to adjust before he was pounded into.

Bobby must have been more eager than he thought. Panting breaths ghosted over his ear and fingers intertwined with his as well as they could from Bobby's current position. With his other hand, Bobby reached around Sammy's waist and began stroking his cock in time with his thrusts. Holy shit.

"Feel good, sweetheart?"

"Nnnh, god, yessss!"

"Good..." Bobby licked Sammy's neck gently, giving his dick a quick squeeze before increasing the pace. The head of his length jabbed that one spot and got a wail of ecstasy from Sammy. Hot. "You gettin' close?"

"YES!" Sammy whimpered and gripped the pillow again, tears of pleasure pricking his eyes as his prostate was slammed into over and over again. Fire spread from his balls to his dick to the entirety of him as he let out a wordless howl and came, spattering the blankets with come. Behind him somewhere, Bobby snarled and pushed in as deep as he could go, then flooded him and proceeded to collapse atop him.

They lay there for a minute, panting and shuddering as the final waves of pleasure faded away, then Bobby spoke. "... I'm gonna go on more tours if we fuck like that every time I get back."

***

"Goddamn," Earl mumbled, finishing off his drink. Sammy was already on number 3 and just the eeny-weeniest bit tipsy. "He really did that?"

"Mmmmmhm." Sammy's response was slow, lazy, and somehow 200 times more Southern than normal. "I'm gonna make him go on tour more often too if he's gonna fuck me like a jackrabbit on steroids."

Earl blushed a little and gestured to the bartender for another cocktail. "Something without tequila in it, this time?" he added, only to be greeted with something intensely pink and cranberry-scented. Well, it wasn't tequila. He hoped. Glancing around the bar, it looked like absolutely no one else took any interest in Sammy's little tale. He'd left an amount to the imagination, but Earl figured he could fill in the blanks. "... Sounds kinda like Floyd on an average night. But softer."

"Mmm. You know you gotta tell me some Floyd stories now, right, sugar?"

"... I have to?"

"Tit for tat, hon."

Earl sighed and sipped his drink. He'd need the liquid courage. "Well... Floyd's... rough. I kind of like it when he's all mean and pissy because then he says these... absolutely filthy things that probably shouldn't turn me on, but..."

"Ooooh! Kinky!" Sammy grinned and leaned in closer. "Tell me!"

"... Like... a while back I got some... promotional items for doing an item on Harry's, and..."

***

"You know, this look suits you." Floyd fiddled with the handhold of the leash momentarily. "Can't say you aren't enjoying yourself. You're hard."

The worst part of it was that he was right. Earl was enjoying himself. Immensely. The warm, soft leather of the collar and the pressure from the little tugs on the leash turned him on more than they should. Being on his knees in front of Floyd turned him on more than it should. Being humiliated like this turned him on more than it should. He loved and hated everything about it simultaneously. His hands were bound behind him with one of Floyd's ties (they gave him a collar and leash but not a pair of handcuffs?), his head was bowed, and he was painfully hard.

"What do you want, doll?" Floyd asked, one finger going beneath his chin and tipping his head up. Earl shuddered a little as they made eye contact. "Hm?"

"... You."

"What about me?"

Earl held back a frustrated whine. "I want you. Please..."

"That's better." Floyd's smile would have been threatening if it weren't so hot. Earl shuddered a little and ached to touch him. Stupid binds. Yeah, Floyd in a suit was sexy as hell, but he liked him better like this. Jeans and one of his worn out old band shirts. Foreigner, today. He looked unpretentious. Normal. And then here he was leading Earl around on a leash.

Earl panted softly and fixed his eyes on the prize as Floyd removed his jeans. No underwear. Holy shit. "God, if you could see yourself," Floyd mumbled, stroking his dick slowly. "You look like a dog that wants a treat." Earl couldn't help but think that he kind of felt like one too, but for whatever reason, he didn't care. He was achingly hard. Humiliation turned him on. He hated it, but it turned him on.

Earl shuddered and whimpered as the tip of Floyd's cock painted his lips with precum. He glanced up at Floyd momentarily, the tip of his tongue just barely snaking out and teasing the helmet with a soft lick. Floyd shivered imperceptibly, then whispered, "Suck it."

Earl let out a low noise of excitement and eagerness and took Floyd into his mouth. He'd gotten pretty good at this if the sounds Floyd made (when he wasn't busy ignoring him like nothing was happening) were any indication. He was starting to get into the zone- the sort of trance the taste and smell and feel of Floyd's huge, hard cock in his mouth could get him into- when he felt a hand knot into his hair and press his head forward. Earl whimpered softly and tried to relax his throat. They'd tried this before with varied results. Most of the time it ended with Earl spluttering and gagging and the mood thoroughly killed.

He shuddered as the head of Floyd's cock slipped past his soft palate, into his throat, and he didn't gag. That was new. His nose came to rest in the thatch of hair at the base, and Earl whimpered softly around his lover's dick. Holy fuck. He'd done it. Floyd snarled softly and stroked Earl's hair, breaths slow and heavy.

"Good boy," he whispered. Something about those two words set a fire in Earl's brain and heart. Praise. He'd finally earned praise as opposed to snarky, backhanded positivity. Outright being told he was doing good was unbelievably hot. Well, he thought, best not to lose that title. He managed to poke his tongue out to trace patterns on Floyd's balls, panting quietly through his nose. Above him, Floyd growled, muttered a quiet "ahh, _fuck_ " and white-knuckled his hair.

When tears pricked his eyes, Earl backed off, panting softly as a string of spit briefly connected him to Floyd's length. He looked up at his partner and smiled a little bit. "... Still good?"

Floyd said nothing. He gently helped Earl to his feet, then nudged him back to sit on the bed. He pushed him onto his back, gripped his ankles and positioned them on his shoulders, and prodded at his entrance. "Yes?"

"Please!" Earl didn't even care if it hurt. He'd never had Floyd react to him like that before, and he was kind of interested in keeping it going. He panted softly through a brief spike of pain, then let out a low groan as Floyd pressed into him. "Holy shit..."

"We've done this how many times and you still say that every time?" Floyd nipped at Earl's neck gently. "I'm gonna fuck you 'til you're screaming my name and can't remember yours," he whispered in a tone that, again, would have been scary if it weren't so fucking sexy. Earl nodded a little and gasped as Floyd snapped his hips forward roughly. A low, animalistic growl passed Floyd's lips, and Earl felt the trance coming back.

His hands tightened into fists behind his back (hey, built in lift for his hips, he noticed). Floyd tugged the leash and forced him to arch his neck, eliciting a moan and soft whimper. "Fffffuck..."

"You're into this." Floyd chuckled a little and tugged the leash again. "Never would have pegged you for kinky, doll." Earl cried out sharply as Floyd thrusted in faster and deeper. His cock, standing at attention, drooled precum over his stomach and practically begged for attention, only to be summarily ignored.

"T-touch me! Please!"

"Excuse you?" Floyd halted his thrusts. Earl squirmed and whined desperately. "I don't see you holding the leash here, Camembert. You aren't the one calling the shots." He pulled out. Earl whined again and bucked his hips back against nothing

"Pick your head up." Earl did as he was commanded, slightly startled when his glasses were removed and a blindfold tied behind his head. He was already pretty useless without his glasses, but that extra level of deprivation only served to make him harder. He could barely move, and now he couldn't see.

He let out a high-pitched cry as Floyd pressed into him again. The former tempo and rhythm returned, the only immediately obvious sounds in the room the sound of their hips meeting and Earl's whimpers and cries growing in volume and pitch.

"What do you want, baby?" Floyd growled, panting quietly. A pause. "You may speak."

"Aaah, th-thank you, thank you!" Earl whimpered and arched his back. "H-harder! Deeper! Please!"

He tossed his head back and howled as Floyd plunged into him, feeling his balls against his ass and like he was about to have some pretty impressive bruises. Floyd leaned over him; he could feel the soft cottony material of his shirt brushing against his overheated, sweat-soaked skin. "Are you gonna come?"

"Y-yes!"

"Wait." Floyd gave the base of Earl's cock a squeeze. "You come when I say you can." Earl groaned desperately, panting hard and practically feeling every dribble of precum leaving him. How deep was this gonna go? Now he couldn't come until Floyd said he could. He wasn't particularly interested in finding out what would happen if he failed to have such control.

Floyd thrusted deeper, harder, faster, soft little groans and noises of pleasure escaping him. Goddamn. He panted quietly, snarling, "I'm close..."

"Come in me," Earl panted, breathless and desperate. "Please, god, please come in me...!"

He heard Floyd groan, felt him press in as deep as he could, then he felt his release deep inside him. "God, yesssss..." Earl hissed, his own dick starting to feel legitimately painful. Once Floyd seemed to be finished, he gripped Earl's cock and stroked him once, twice, slowly. He thrashed and bucked desperately.

"Beg."

"L-let me come, Floyd, god, please let me come, I-I'll do anything if you just let me come, it HURTS!"

"Mmm, I'd prefer if you called me 'Sir', but I'll accept it." Floyd's finger traced the head. "Come."

Earl screamed Floyd's name as he came harder than he ever had in his life. Stars exploded into his vision, what little he had, and he felt himself bucking wildly like a wild horse. As the white-hot static faded, he lay limp and shuddering, panting quietly.

"Goddamn. Didn't think you'd come that hard." Floyd sounded legitimately startled. Earl barely noticed the blindfold being untied until he could suddenly make out vague, blurry shapes in the room. Floyd gently slid his glasses back onto his face and smiled at him. "Hey. You alright?"

Earl nodded a little. "... D-did I do good...?"

"You did." Floyd unhooked the leash and kissed Earl gently. "You were a good boy."

Earl sighed happily, exhaustion in every pore as Floyd lay beside him and pulled him close. He'd done well.

***

"Whoaaaaaaaaaa." Sammy, by now pretty intoxicated, stared at Earl momentarily. "Like a dog collar?"

"Yep." Earl finished off Sea Breeze number three and smiled crookedly. "I know it sounds weird but... but it was really hot."

Sammy was quiet, like he was thinking, then said, "Y'think Bobby would go for that?"

"Prob'ly not." Earl laughed softly. "But he's tiny enough he could be one of those dogs you carry around in a purse."

"I ain't carryin' a purse!"

"But just picture it!"

Sammy paused. Then he pictured it. Then he cracked up, and his laugh was so contagious Earl joined in.

"Alright, you two. I'm gonna call your drunk asses a cab and send you home." The bartender was already reaching for the phone. "I think you've had quite enough."

If only he'd been listening to them while they were talking. Sammy and Earl giggled a little, even as they were marched outside to wait for their cab. "... Wanna do this again next week?"

"Hell yes I do."


End file.
